


You'd Better Come

by tulioandesmi



Category: Starfighter (Comic)
Genre: Fluff, Homophobic Language, M/M, brief self-harm reference, or the closest i can get to fluff with starfighter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-21
Updated: 2013-03-08
Packaged: 2017-11-26 07:50:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/648251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tulioandesmi/pseuds/tulioandesmi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Abel wants Cain to go on leave with him, for more reasons than one. Features an Earth!Ball and snarky politicians. </p><p>Inspired by Hamlet's gorgeous picture of Cain and Abel drinking champagne!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"The hell are you mooning over, princess?" Cain asked with his usual lack of tact, snatching the tablet out of Abel's hands and snarling as Abel immediately tried to grab it back. His protests fell on deaf ears as Cain scanned the tablet quickly, though slower than Abel could, never one for sitting and reading quietly anyways. He was silent for a few moments, letting the navigator snatch the tablet out of his hands before letting out a sardonic snort. 

"Figures," was all he said, and Abel felt his cheeks flushing with shame, even though he had done nothing wrong. He took a deep breath, hoping the aggressive fighter would take a moment to listen before jumping to whatever crazy conclusions he was already forming in his suspicious mind. 

"You could've just asked to see it, you know, instead of grabbing it out of my hands," Abel reprimanded, before scolding himself internally for sounding too much like his parents. Cain responded by pulling a slightly crushed cigarette out of his jacket pocket, flicking it straight before pointedly setting it between his lips and lighting it. Abel hated when he smoked inside the room, hated it even more when Cain smoked while the navigator was sitting right there. Abel frowned, feeling the motion tugging slightly at his scar. He sighed. He'd been doing that more and more often around Cain, something he'd never been particularly prone to before. "You could come, you know. I'd… I'd want you to come."

They were both due for leave the weekend after next, had known about it for over a month now, and Abel still had yet to hear from Cain on what he planned to do for it. But sitting on the screen of Abel's tablet was an overly-flashy and excruciatingly worded invitation to a local ball on Earth which the navigator knew he'd have to attend-- had to keep up appearances, after all, even if his father knew now Abel would never get into politics himself, knew his son would most likely die in the war before growing half as old as his old man, knew that Abel was a faggot anyways and a terrible disgrace to the family name. 'Wanting' Cain to come wasn't even the half of it. If he had to face the swaggering, smug little politicians with their fake, tittering wives alone, he would probably slit his wrists with a champagne glass before the night was done. 

Of course, Cain's sense of intuition started and ended with whether the person he was eyeing wanted to fuck him or not. 

"What is this, some kind of meet-the-parents set-up?" Cain scowled, pointblank refusing to admit to Abel that he had never been to Earth, was almost scared of Earth, and most definitely scared of his navigator's parents. "We're just fucking, princess, not getting married." Not getting married, just sleeping together, eating together, working together. Not getting married, just being closer to each other than either of them had ever been with another man-- but neither of them was willing to admit that, not to themselves and certainly not to each other. 

"I know that!" Abel burst out too eagerly, pushing down fantasies of Cain getting down on one knee and kissing his fingers, of Cain practically molesting him in his wedding dress in a church closet, of Cain pushing him down onto their big king-sized bed before their honeymoon had even properly begun and having his way with him then and there. While Cain had most likely played with bb-guns and slingshots when he was little, Abel had spent his time pouring over his mother's magazines, keeping up with celebrity gossip and wedding setups like his life depended on it. But Cain had managed to catch him off-guard again, always caught him off-guard if he was being honest, but if anyone asked Abel would swear he'd expected nothing less. "If anything, I want you to help me _avoid_ my parents!" 

Cain grinned at that, probably reveling in the idea of Abel squirming under his father's gaze. "I have plans," he said lazily, smoke curling out from beneath his lips, and Abel knew he'd won. 

" _Please_ , Cain," he pleaded, plastering on his best puppy-dog face and crawling into Cain's lap, running his hands over warm skin and hard muscles. "It's going to be _torture_. You _know_ how I hate my father's so-called 'friends'; they'll just sit there making fun of me all night! And my dad will spend the whole ball trying to pretend that I'm not-- that I don't--"

"Love taking it up the ass?" Cain finished for him, dark eyes staring down at Abel with amusement. His arms curled around Abel's slim body, tugging him even closer, one hand trailing down Abel's torso and back up to his lips, fingering the scar with something akin to affection. Abel reached up to pluck the cigarette from Cain's lips and Cain let him, watching as the smaller man snubbed it out on the floor carefully before returning to the loose circle of his fighter's arms. Abel pressed slow kisses along Cain's jaw, inhaling the scent of smoke and musk, feeling his crotch stirring slightly as his body rubbed against Cain's. His lips trailed over slightly rough stubble before reaching Cain's lips, hot breath mingling intimately with the fighter's. Cain growled and nipped at Abel's bottom lip impatiently, but Abel pulled back before the fighter could kiss him properly. 

"Does this mean you'll come?" he asked innocently, head tilted to the side as he watched Cain huff irritably. 

"I'd better fucking come," the fighter replied huskily, purposely misinterpreting the question as he tugged Abel into him with a heavy hand pinching the back of the navigator's neck. 

"Cain," Abel protested, squirming against him, ignoring the way his ministrations caused Cain to let out a small moan. "Nobody is fucking or coming or- or _biting_ until I get an answer!" Abel sat back once more, folding his arms with a determined look on his face, body tense and wired. 

Cain knew a lost cause when he saw it. "Fine, whatever, fuck, you pansy," he muttered irritably, shifting so that his too-tight pants would loosen up a bit. "I'll fucking cancel my shit to take you out. But like fuck I'm gonna cuddle up to your damn excuse of a father," he added, not looking forwards to meeting Abel's parents one bit. One Abel was hard enough to deal with, much less three of them. 

Abel nodded and tried not to look too pleased with himself. _Two birds with one stone_ , he thought, allowing a small, grim smile to overtake his expression. _Let's see Dad try and invite me to one of his balls ever again._ With this final thought in his head, he gave himself into Cain at last, letting the man run his tongue over Abel's scar and even allowing a small bite here and there. As Cain flipped them over and pressed the navigator's body into the mattress Abel allowed himself to smile fully, kissing Cain eagerly and waiting for the usual incredible mixture of pain-pleasure to take him away to a better place.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ты за это легко не отделаешься = I'd better get laid for this/you better pay hard for [my efforts]  
> Blyat = literally, bitch, whore, prostitute; also a common curse exclamation equivalent to shit/fuck  
> Translations by the lovely Wtcelesta!
> 
> So, yeah, this was only supposed to be one chapter but then I was like THEY SHOULD GO TO THE BALL and then I was like WAIT FIRST THEY SHOULD GET READY FOR THE BALL and then I was like THEY SHOULD HAVE AFTER-BALL SEX so yeah this is probably going to be 4 chapters instead of one but WHO CARES as long as there's sexytimes, NOT I
> 
> Also, thank you guys for your comments!!! I really, really love hearing from y'all!!!!

"Ты за это легко не отделаешься," Cain muttered, straightening his tie for what felt like the fiftieth time that evening. Abel wouldn't stop fussing over him, smoothing down imaginary wrinkles here and there, spraying him with his fucking pansy perfumes worth more than Cain's entire being. He jerked his head away as he felt soft fingers slide up to his ear, bringing up his own hand to clasp his earring protectively in a large fist. "It stays," he snarled, and Abel gave him an odd smile before backing off with a nod.

"Sorry, Cain," the navigator said slightly sheepishly. "I'm just nervous, I guess. I want to make a good impression on people." 

"I thought you wanted to piss off your asshole of a father," Cain reminded Abel with a snort, purposely untucking a corner of the button-up shirt Abel had spent so long ironing, as though that was the rebellion of the century. 

Abel sighed, smiling wistfully as he tucked Cain's shirt back in, fingers lingering a bit just underneath the waistband of his dark slacks. "Yes, but I want to look _good_ while doing it," Abel insisted. "I want to show him that being a-- well, you know-- hardly makes you the scum of the Earth." The last line held a note of bitterness in it, but Abel turned away before Cain could analyze his expression. 

"Tch," Cain said, grabbing Abel's shoulder and spinning him back towards Cain, making him fall into the fighter's chest. "I'm already the scum of the Earth, princess," he laughed, " _and_ I'm a _'you know'_ ," he added mockingly. "I think your father's gonna think that and _hate_ that no matter how you dress me up." If the choice had been up to him, Cain would've arrived in full fighter gear, twirling his knife in one hand and clutching Deimos in the other. Make the rich cunts think twice before insulting his girlfriend in front of him. But of course, Abel had other plans. Be normal, except for one fucking thing. Be normal, except for Cain. 

The thought made him growl low in the back of his throat. He shoved his lips against Abel's forcefully, nipping at the scar and not minding at all if it re-opened. _Mine._ Abel responded passionately, arms snaking up to clutch Cain closer to him, one hand twisting in his black silky locks and tugging, pulling harshly on the strands. The pain wired Cain up even more, and he tore his lips off of Abel's in favor of pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to his navigator's pale skin, licking and sucking his way down to Abel's collarbone. He realized belatedly that Abel was trying to push him away, the hair-pulling not meant to encourage him, but he was too far gone to care. The sound of ripping accompanied the plop of several buttons falling to the floor, and Abel was gaping at him in the cute, clueless way he did. Cain immediately ran his hands up and down Abel's now bare torso, loving the sight of his darker skin and large, rough hands against Abel's pale, delicate body. He tweaked a nipple and Abel made a choked noise, caught between moving away and pressing in closer, still too stunned to react to the remains of his expensive button-up hanging off his narrow shoulders. 

"Abel, are you ready fo-- _oh!_ " a high-pitched voice gasped, the bedroom door opening and shutting quickly, and Abel jumped a mile high, moving too fast even for Cain, sprinting over to the connected bathroom with a squeal and trying to get his shirt to cover his bare chest as best he could. 

"Get me a new shirt!" Abel's frantic voice screeched from the bathroom, and Cain shook his head to get rid of the fog of arousal clouding his thoughts. He went and locked the door to the bedroom, leaning against it and crossing his arms. 

"I don't know where your shit is!" he called back to Abel, trying not to smirk as Abel's blonde head peeked out of the bathroom cautiously. "No one's here, princess. Put on your own damn shirt." 

Abel tiptoed out of the bathroom slowly, looking around with paranoia and glaring at Cain whenever he had the chance, like it was all his damn fault someone had walked in on them. Like it even mattered, when they were going to leave the bedroom arm-in-arm anyways. But he watched silently as Abel redressed, commenting here and there on how sexy the blonde looked, even allowing the navigator to check him over once more for wrinkles in his suit without a single mocking retort. 

"Finished, princess?" he asked impatiently when Abel pulled away at last, itching to get the whole damn thing over with and them both out of the expensive outfits Abel had prepared so painstakingly. Abel nodded, biting his lip slightly and wringing his hands nervously. He opened his mouth to talk but Cain beat him to the chase, swinging his arm up around Abel's waist and tugging him towards the door. "Let's go impress the shit out of these fuckers," Cain stated grandly, thinking silently that the only thing they'd been impressed about was that a colonial could actually figure out how to button a shirt. But this wasn't about him, this was about Abel, and a tiny bit about the great makeup sex Abel would be giving him tonight. Cain would never see these assholes again anyways, and so he was more than prepared to give the performance of a lifetime.

This resolution didn't last long as he pushed the door open and a flushed, giggling brunette jumped back, probably the one who'd walked in on them in the first place. Her eyes roved hungrily over Cain's body before she diverted all her attention to Abel, acting as though the fighter wasn't even there. 

"Don't you look handsome!" the young woman exclaimed, brushing her hand against Abel's sleeve. "Mother says there's a rumor going around that you've found someone at last. Who's the lucky girl?!" the brunette squealed excitedly. Cain didn't appreciate being called a girl, even though he knew he was damn lucky. He couldn't help the the sneer that twisted his lips as he muttered for Abel to _hurrythefuckup_ , clutching Abel's waist tightly against him as he tugged his navigator in the direction of the ballroom.

Abel, for his part, didn't even spare the woman a final glance as he allowed Cain to tow him away, expression icy and jaw set. "You should expect a lot more of that," he said to Cain through gritted teeth, probably wondering just how insane he must've gotten to even consider bringing his fighter here. At least, that's what Cain was thinking at the moment, trying to remember if he'd ever accidentally hit Abel upside the head. "But still, I'm glad you're here," the navigator added softly, and Cain thought the tender way Abel was looking at him almost made the whole charade worth it. Almost.

"Son! It's about time!" a gruff, slightly pained voice rang out, and Cain felt Abel's nails dig into his arm. He didn't need Abel to tell him who the tall, wide-shouldered blonde approaching them was; his navigator's flushed, angry and expectant expression was all he needed to clue him in. 

"Blyat," Cain said pleasantly as Abel's father reached them.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abel and Cain go to the ball. It's exactly what they expected and more.

"Your mother thought you weren't going to show up at all," Abel's father remarked disdainfully, scanning his son up and down, eyes searching for a button missed or a wrinkle unchecked. 

"Of course I showed up!" Abel exclaimed in a slightly strangled voice, already losing his cool before the battle had even begun. Cain squeezed his waist warningly, marveling at how quickly this man managed to make Abel lose his composure. If he didn't look like such a prick Cain might've asked him for some tips. 

Cain's message seemed to reach Abel successfully and the navigator shifted, squaring his shoulders and looking his father in the eye. "Of course I showed up," he said in a much calmer tone. "I know how important these events are to you and mother. I would never disappoint her like that," Abel added, hoping that would sting his father a little bit, knowing that it wouldn't.

His father shrugged indifferently, the blonde toupee set on his balding head shifting slightly with the movement. "There will be plenty of other opportunities to disappoint her tonight." Light eyes flashed, nothing like Abel's, cold and hard and somewhat beady. "I expect you on your best behavior. The senator and his wife wish to be introduced to my son 'the war hero'."

Abel's palms balled up into fists, and Cain had never seen him so angry and yet so repressed at the same time. It wasn't the Abel he was used to, and he wasn't sure if it was an Abel he liked. When the navigator spoke, his voice was smooth, clear, and almost as low as Cain's. "That's wonderful."

"Yes," Abel's father said absently, "If only I actually had one." Cain's hand dropped from Abel's waist as he took a step forwards instinctively, more than ready to pummel the old man into the ground, for a moment seeing his own crazed father rearing up above him, large and intimidating. But a quick glance to the side caught Abel's intense glare and the vision dissipated. Cain swore he could feel Abel shoving him back into his place, the ballroom materializing once more around him, his impulse slipping away as quickly as it had come. 

Abel's father sniffed, eyeing Cain's dark skin and even darker hair as though he'd just noticed the fighter standing next to his son. Abel cleared his throat, sending a final warning glance in Cain's direction. Cain glared right back at him, lips sealed fast. Abel's eyes switched over to his father as his nimble hands made the appropriate gestures. 

"Dad, this is my military partner Cain. Cain, this is my father, Elijah."

"Pleased to meet you," Cain managed to growl, calling on the few etiquette lessons his drunk aunt used to scream at him in the dark. "Your son is the best girlfriend I've ever had." 

Dark and light eyes widened simultaneously and Cain could at last see the family resemblance in both father and son's stunned expressions. Abel choked on his own spit and Elijah's mouth tightened until his lips turned white.

"What?" Cain stage-whispered to Abel, acting the part of the clueless colonial and enjoying it more than he ever had. "It's not like I told him what a good fuck you are." He blinked as a pudgy, perfectly-manicured finger was suddenly shoved into his face, blurry and reeking of some rich-man Earth cologne. 

"You," Elijah began lowly, voice trembling with barely-suppressed anger, before whirling on his son. "Ethan, you not only bring a _colonial_ here with you, but you bring a colonial _fag_? One of your fucktoys from the military?" Elijah's hand dropped from Cain's face, but not before Cain could see the tremor in his fingers. "Are you trying to ruin our family, or does it just come naturally to you?" 

"I guess it's one of my many talents," Abel snapped back, surprising Cain yet again. "And he's my fighter, Dad, not my _'fucktoy'_. Not my _'colonial fag'_. He's a good person and I'd appreciate it if you'd address him as such!" Did Abel just call him a good person? Damn, he had a long way to go with this one.

"Lower your voice young man," Elijah hissed immediately, interrupting Cain's thoughts, nodding and smiling as though their conversation was delightful. "This is a ballroom, not a- a spaceship!" 

Abel threw his hands up in disgust. "You don't even know anything about what I do! _Still!_ And I have to pander to what _you_ do? How is that fair?!"

"Life isn't fair," Elijah shot back, fake smile still plastered onto his face. "Now come, Ethan, there are people who want to meet you." 

"I'm bringing Cain," Abel said stubbornly, fingers clutching the bottom of Cain's sleeve tightly. 

There was a pause as father and son eyed each other up, identical expressions of determination on their faces. But at last Abel seemed to win out, smile dropping off Elijah's face to be replaced by a scowl. 

"He is your servant," Elijah stated, as though saying with such confidence it would magically make it true. "And when anyone asks, that is _all_ he is. Am I understood, Ethan?" 

Cain reached forwards unthinkingly, perhaps meaning to choke the despicable man with his own stiff collar, and Abel's father caught his hand, moving fast, faster than Cain would've expected. The fighter cursed himself for letting his guard down, wincing when Elijah pressed his fingers back painfully. He could've laughed at the man's presumption that a few broken fingers would intimidate him, but he also could've ended up with a few broken fingers had he done that, which, intimidating or not, wasn't much fun and would keep him off his rotation for a good month. He settled instead for muttering gruffly, "Nice handshake, sir."

"My security guards have an even better one," Elijah said calmly, as though he hadn't just threatened the military's best fighter, as though Cain hadn't spent his entire life beating the sense into little shits like him. "Now _behave_ , colonial." 

Elijah swept off without giving Cain a chance to properly respond, to spy out the guards and find their blind spot, to punch Abel's father in the face until he looked nothing at all like his navigator. Cain could hardly stand seeing Abel's sweet smile on that man's stony face, didn't think he'd be able to stand anything more at all until Abel entwined his thin fingers with Cain's calloused ones. It earned a painful twinge from the fingers his father had just been holding, but Cain didn't care one bit. Pain was good; pain kept him focused. _For Abel_ , he reminded himself, wondering when exactly he had become so whipped, _For angry sex. Yeah, lots and lots of angry sex. Fuck. Fucking shit._

They had reached the table where the senator and his wife sat, or at least, Cain assumed as much from their pretentious expressions. He had just managed to tune out the pithy introductions and bland conversation, a blank look on his face hiding the swirl of frustrated emotions underneath, when a high-pitched voice broke through his calm exterior. 

"But, Elijah dear, who is _that_?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, the ballroom scene went on twice as long as I thought it would, so I had to split it into two chapters. There WILL be some actual dancing, not to worry (were you worried? I dunno)! I hope this chapter wasn't too filler-y and that I haven't ruined Abel's father. I really wish we could see more of him, because my interpretation of his character isn't very complex at all :P 
> 
> And as always, thank you guys so much for your comments!! The best part of writing fics is hearing your responses ;)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cain and Abel at the ball, with Elijah, and dancing!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for excessive and offensive use of the word 'faggot' (sorry!)
> 
> Other than that, I hope you enjoy! And thanks again for the comments everyone, they're all so wonderful and inspiring! :D<3

It was the senator's wife. Too fucking curious for her own good.

Three pairs of eyes bore into Cain, Abel's father choosing to stare at his son instead. Abel ignored it in favor of looking at Cain affectionately. "This? Oh, this is my-"

"Servant," Elijah ground out, forcing a forlorn smile when the senator and his wife turned to look at him as one. "Ethan insists on helping out the poor. Tries to find jobs for them whenever he can. Quite the philanthropist, my son is." Elijah beamed at Abel triumphantly, and Cain was torn between snorting and screaming. And he'd thought _his_ parents were bad- at least they'd just screamed at him what they thought, none of this manipulation and performance crap, getting a few hits in even as the social worker dragged him away to the orphanage. He'd take a black eye and bloody mouth over this shit any day. Words and looks were being exchanged that flew far over his head until the woman before them stood up so quickly her chair was nearly knocked back.

"Right, well, I'm going to dance," the senator's wife said, glaring at her husband until he coughed and stood up as well. 

"Yes, yes, of course dear, could I have the honor of- this dan- this song?" the heavyset man asked, stumbling over his words, already reaching eagerly for his wife's hand before she answered. 

"I think we should dance too," Abel declared sharply, grabbing Cain's waist, and it wasn't exactly romantic but Cain grinned, allowing Abel to lead them both to the dance floor, grateful to not have to converse with any more prying politicians, wondering at every word just how they were manipulating him this time. Too late the fighter realized that the only kind of dancing he knew was far too sexual for this event, didn't know shit about ballroom dancing, had only caught a waltz one time on the TV in Bering's office. But they were already in the middle of the floor, and Abel was looking up at him expectantly, so he placed his hands uncertainly on his navigator's narrow waist and kind of swayed from side to side, imitating the rich couples around him. 

If Abel noticed Cain's discomfort he said nothing about it, laying his head down on Cain's shoulder with a sigh and pressing into his warmth. Cain thought he must be doing something right if he'd gotten some of the tension to bleed out of Abel's shoulders, rubbing a hand comfortingly along the man's spine. They stood like that for a minute, two minutes, just swaying to the music and not caring what anyone thought. But all the time Cain was seeing what Abel could not, with his face pressed into his fighter's shoulder; all the glares, the uncomfortable frowns, the mocking expressions and quiet giggles, all at Abel's expense. "Abel," he said in an undertone, worry over his navigator tying up his stomach into knots, "You shoul-"

"Just shut up," Abel murmured, catching Cain off guard. His arms tightened around Abel's slim body and he tried not to snap back in response. A rude response was nevertheless on the tip of his tongue but Abel started speaking again before he could so much as open his mouth. "Just… just, god, Cain, just dance with me. _Please._ " Abel's voice broke on the last word and Cain felt an unwelcome tug at his heart which only increased as Abel's arms slid up around his neck delicately. He was silent for just a moment but Abel must've interpreted it as a sign to continue, taking in a deep, shuddery breath before going on. 

"I know everyone's looking. I know I've ruined everything. I thought that if I showed them all I was my own person then- then-" Abel broke off as Cain kissed the top of his head before he could think about it, lightly, too caught up in the music and the swaying and the attention to think about what he was doing. His navigator's fine hair tickled his nose and he inhaled deeply, smelling Abel all mixed up in perfumes and cologne and special lavender-scented shampoo and not liking it one bit. But this was the life his navigator had been born into; while Cain had been using diluted industrial cleaner to scrub the dirt off his skin Abel had servants doing it for him, primping and fussing over him until he was so clean his pale skin practically shone. 

Cain would never fit into a life like that.

"You're going to regret doing this for me," Cain mumbled, words falling out before he could stop them, one hand bunching up the fabric of the tail of Abel's jacket even as the other continued tracing its way along Abel's back. He felt Abel tense beneath him, and tensed up in response, not sure what was about to happen but knowing that he wouldn't like it.

"I'm not doing this for you!!" Abel's indignant voice came, louder as his head jerked back off of Cain's chest, dark eyes staring up at his accusingly, and Cain could've cried with relief. "God, Cain, are you _daft_? Or are you so completely wrapped up in yourself that you never thought I could be doing this for _myself_?!" Finally, an emotion Cain was used to. This was an Abel he'd been dealing with since the day they met. 

"Alright, princess, don't get your panties in a wad," he sneered, watching with triumph as Abel tried to hide his smile with a half-hearted scowl. 

"You're such an idiot, Cain," Abel murmured, pressing back into him anyways. The song changed to a more upbeat classical piece and Cain had never felt more awkward in his life, almost wished for a whiskey and a good smoke and a corner to hide in more than he wished for the navigator to keep on swaying in his arms forever. But then Abel was pushing his face into Cain's neck, sniffling softly and peppering tiny feathered kisses along his jaw, making small noises that made Cain half-hard despite being completely out of his element. 

"He can take us both down, you know," a muffled voice reached his ears, and Cain belatedly realized that Abel was gripping the fighter so tightly to prevent himself from falling down. "I thought- I mean- I'm so stupid, Cain! I'm so… fucking…" Abel's shoulders were trembling just slightly and his face was hot, so hot Cain could feel it through his suit, seeping into his skin and straight into his heart. "I thought the military might protect me," Abel whispered lamely, more to himself than the fighter, but Cain felt the sting of it shoot through him anyways, anger sparking at Abel's unusual show of self-pity.

"Hell no, Abel, I am so fucking done," Cain ground out, pushing Abel off of him before grabbing for his navigator's hand. He yanked Abel off the dance floor roughly, mind focused entirely on finding Elijah and giving him a piece of his mind, politics be damned. He was vaguely aware of Abel trying to hold him back, stumbling against the force of his weight, and barely noticed when slim fingers slipped off his coat and he was walking swiftly, jogging, moving at a half-run towards Abel's father, that damn platinum toupee shining like a beacon in the crowd. 

Abel had disappeared by the time he reached Elijah, but Cain was too far gone to care, all the shit he'd gotten about going on leave with Abel and dressing up with Abel and acting like he wasn't a goddamn fag with Abel tunneling down into one image that filled him with irrational hate, an image with a fake toupee and a turned up nose and glinting, beady eyes which reminded him too much of Deimos' crazy uncle, just another Earth-born asshole Cain had to put in his place. 

As soon as he was within speaking distance Cain shoved a finger into Elijah's chest, hard, hoping it would leave a bruise on the man's pasty skin. He must've caught Abel's father off-guard this time because the man simply blinked at him, surprised, trying not to cough from the force of Cain's hand against his sternum. 

"You leave my navigator's _faggot ass_ alone," Cain snarled before Elijah could react, glowering as menacingly as he could. "You don't want the world to deal with him, and I don't want him to deal with you. I'll stay his little fucking dirty secret if you keep playing along as usual, you got that? You pay his bills, you stay the fuck out of his life, and I stay out of yours."

Abel's father laughed, harsh and sardonic. "You must have some Earth blood in you, pig. That's the longest I've ever heard a stupid colonial speak." 

"And your son must have some colonial blood in him, even though he never shuts the fuck up," Cain shot back, and Elijah fell silent. Ah. He knew those dark eyes had to come from somewhere, and it sure as fuck wasn't his so-called 'father'. 

"You'll never be good enough, even for a disappointment like him," Elijah rasped, both of them aware that the battle was tipping in Cain's favor, Abel's father hoping to get in a few last barbs before it ended. "It's only a matter of time until he leaves you and comes running back to me. That boy never knew how to run his own life anyways," Elijah said with a hint of satisfaction, like Cain didn't know he was already living on borrowed time, waiting every second of every day for Abel to come to his senses and dump his fucked up colonial ass. 

"At least he's not to fucking coward to try," Cain spat in return, even though the navigator's father was right, even though they both knew Abel should never have enlisted in the military, didn't belong and would never last in a place like that. Even though Cain could see the triumph in Elijah's eyes upon realizing that Cain agreed with him more than he'd ever admit. 

Their staring contest was interrupted by a cut-off should of, "Cai-!" as Abel came barreling in through the crowd, panting slightly and managing to simultaneously look livid and confused. "What- what's going on?" he asked, glancing worriedly back and forth between his father and his boyfriend as though either of them was liable to explode at any moment. But Elijah turned his back at the same moment that Cain let out a loud snort and it was over, animosity lost among the happy chattering in the room, and Cain grabbed Abel's wrist and dragged him to the exit before another word could be exchanged. 

"What happened?" Abel asked again, several times, but Cain ignored him until they were both out of the building and into the open air, icy wind whipping his hair into his eyes and making Abel frown. Cain let out a loud, brash laugh which echoed in the night, and Abel stared at him with wide eyes as he whirled around to clamp his hands down on the navigator's shoulders.

"Abel," Cain said slowly, dark eyes boring into his navigator, whose face was already flushed with the cold. "I have something serious to talk about."

Abel squirmed nervously, biting his lip. The navigator must've known it was about his father. Probably thinking it would be something about how fucking awful the little prick was, or how much he'd stuck his nose up at Cain being a colonial. Cain pressed his fingers down into Abel's shoulders, trapping him, making sure Abel had nowhere to run.

"If you ever wear your goddamn hair like that, I'm fucking leaving you." 

Abel blinked once, slowly, and then laughter was bubbling up out of him, full of relief and a bit of hysteria. "Did- did you _see_ his toupee?" Abel giggled, holding his stomach as his shoulders shook under Cain's warm hands. Cain let out a snort himself, allowing his hands to drop back down, idly calculating how much time they had left before they had to fly back to the Slepnir. Easily enough for a couple fucks and a quick snack.

"No idea what the fuck that is, princess, but his wig was ugly as shit. And he calls _me_ the faggot."


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cain and Abel activity time post-dance party with Abel's dad. 
> 
> Warning for slight dubcon/noncon at one point, and for explicit sex.

Cain didn't tell him about the exchange between him and Elijah, and Abel didn't ask again. Didn't want to know, and definitely didn't want to care. Somehow they'd gotten out of there scot free, for now at least, and all Abel wanted was to curl up in bed with his fighter and pretend like he'd never gotten the stupid idea to drag Cain with him to the ball in the first place. But still-

"I'm sorry we didn't get to dance more," Abel murmured against Cain's chest, drawing lazy circles across his skin. "You know, without everyone watching." He sensed more than saw the wide grin which stretched itself across the fighter's face, no doubt thinking something nasty and not at all what Abel meant.

"We can dance here, princess," Cain said half-teasingly, pushing them both up into a sitting position, rough hand settled lightly on the small of the navigator's back. It seemed that he hardly expected Abel to accept it, and so Abel did just that.

"Just don't step on my feet this time," Abel mumbled, fighting down a pleased blush, trying to act nonchalant about it. Cain blanched. 

"I didn--" Abel raised an eyebrow, and Cain broke off immediately. "Yeah, well, we don't dance like fucking pansies in the colonies," Cain muttered sullenly after a moment. "You wanna fucking dance or not?" 

"Yes!" Abel exclaimed quickly, cheeks pink with excitement. He scrambled to his feet, dragging Cain up with him. "I have music on my tablet, what kind of music do you want?" he asked excitedly, dropping Cain's arm in favor of flicking through his song selection. Cain made a noncommittal noise, digging his sharp chin down into Abel's shoulder as he looked over. 

The song was corny, Abel knew it, but he'd always thought it was the perfect song to dance to with- well, someone, some fantasy man he'd compiled through many day dreams and space boy magazines. They weren't really anything like Cain, but Abel didn't think he himself was the same boy he'd been when he'd had those dreams. He knew more. Saw more. Had definitely done more.

Abel wondered if Cain was even listening to the music as muscular arms drew around him, trailing up and down his back, pressing his body firmly into Cain's and coaxing him into swaying back and forth with the fighter, smooth and easy. 

"Mm, this is nice, isn't it?" Abel asked contentedly, laying his cheek on Cain's shoulder with a little sigh as they moved together. 

"Mm, yeah… just like that baby," Cain responded slowly, voice low and slightly breathless. For a split second Abel wondered why the fighter was using his sex voice and then he felt it, proof of Cain's arousal rubbing against his stomach. He'd thought Cain's hand had been caught between them, and ignored it, but apparently he'd been wrong. Any objection he was going to make was swallowed up by Cain's lips against his, and Abel couldn't help but respond as the fighter's tongue swept into his open mouth demandingly. Abel reached up, blunt nails scraping against Cain's scalp as he tangled his fingers into Cain's dark hair, tugging hard enough to force Cain to release his lips with a growl. "Harder," Cain gasped, and Abel complied, grabbing a handful of soft locks and yanking on them as Cain attacked his neck ferociously, licking and nipping until Abel's skin felt raw, burning in the moments when Cain's tongue wasn't cooling it down. 

Cain made a small noise against the hollow of his throat and Abel couldn't figure out when he'd stopped pulling and started pushing Cain into his chest, eager for more. The music had stopped long ago and Abel rapidly became aware of how little clothing either of them were wearing, Cain having torn off his fancy suit the second they'd made it back to the hotel, Abel not far behind him. And now it was just him in his regulation underwear and Cain in the pair of hawaiian boxers he'd found so oddly enticing when they'd passed it in the souvenir shop-- boxers which were now straining against the pressure of Cain's erection, distorting the palm-trees-and-coconuts design printed on. 

"Take them off," Abel said unthinkingly, missing the way Cain's eyes narrowed at his boldness and then spread in a wicked grin. 

"Whatever you say, Princess," Cain answered easily, swiveling his hips and tugging the boxers down slowly, too slow, prompting Abel to jump forwards and tug them harshly down himself as Cain laughed and tried to pull them back up. "Hey, hey, I'm putting on a show! Come on now!" 

"Show _this_ ," Abel growled, and it made no sense but Cain shut up immediately as Abel descended upon his dick, shoving his mouth down as far as it would go and licking at Cain mercilessly. 

"Ah-- mm- okay," Cain agreed, hands reaching up to palm the back of Abel's head, holding him there as Cain gently thrust in and out of his mouth. Abel pulled back, shaking Cain's hands off of him with a warning glare before diving back in, licking up and down Cain's shaft as Cain moaned and shoved his now free fist into his mouth. As a reward Abel released Cain's dick with a wet pop, taking a deep breath before pressing his mouth down fully once more, holding back his gag reflex with intense concentration as he continued pressing forwards until his nose just touched Cain's pubic hair and he had managed to engulf almost the entirety of Cain's length. Above him Cain was choking back several curses and a heavy groan all at once, hands reaching up again despite Abel's previous warning, though thankfully they didn't push Abel any further. 

"Fuck, Abel, I can feel the back of your fucking throat, Abe--" and suddenly there was Abel's gag reflex and he couldn't hold it anymore, throat convulsing around Cain as he wrenched himself back, coughing a few times as he caught his breath and inwardly cursing Cain for not even paying attention as the fighter's large hand wrapped around his cock in Abel's stead, jerking relentlessly. "I'm so close, baby, look at me, watch me come," Cain murmured, and Abel couldn't help the angry pout that crossed his face at the thought of his own neglected arousal. He half-hoped it would turn Cain off but of course it did just the opposite, the fighter hunching over a moment later with a short shout, cum dribbling off his curled fist and down onto the floor as Abel quickly moved out of the way. "Spoilsport," Cain said, but a moment later his knees hit the floor and his soiled hands were on Abel's shoulders, pushing him down back onto the mattress as Cain brought his body to hover over Abel's slim frame. 

"Your turn, baby," Cain announced with a sly smile, pressing kisses along Abel's stomach and down his happy trail and then his lips were on Abel's half-hard cock, _finally,_ making him fully hard within minutes. Cain worked his tongue in conjunction with his hands, licking and sucking and squeezing and pulling until Abel couldn't tell Cain's mouth and his fingers apart, and then Cain's index was pressing against his entrance and _oh_ , things were starting to make sense again, and he barely managed to croak out "lube!" before Cain had sunk into him up to his knuckle and Abel was already seeing stars. 

Well, it wasn't exactly how he expected the dancing to go, but he couldn't really say he minded as Cain stretched out his hole expertly, quirking two fingers upwards experimentally and making Abel scream in pleasure. "You going to- to get inside me, or what?" Abel panted, trying not to beg but wanting to all the same, rolling his hips back against Cain's fingers with a light gasp. The fighter chuckled, low and dark against his neck, hot breath sending tingles across his sensitized skin. 

"Yeah, alright," Cain rasped, withdrawing his fingers and giving Abel's ass a light slap. "On your knees," he ordered, and Abel quickly flipped over onto his belly, pushing his ass up with abandon. He bit his lip as he felt Cain's slick shaft align with his hole, teasing around it several times before pressing in, slow but unrelenting and he barely held back a groan at the pressure, at the feeling of being stretched and filled, at the feeling of Cain's hard torso pressing down against his back and his own heavy breathing stirring up the hairs on the back of Abel's neck. Cain grabbed a handful of Abel's hair, forcing the navigator to arch his back, allowing the fighter to lean over and whisper into his ear huskily, "You ready, baby?" 

Abel whimpered in response, trying to hold his torso up on shaky arms, nearly collapsing forwards as Cain pulled back and thrust into him hard, long, fast strokes filling him up over and over again, and when Cain's hand left his hair and wrapped around his dick Abel _did_ collapse forwards, a pleased cry leaving his lips as he felt his ass clench around Cain's length. Pleasure shot up and down his spine and he bit his wrist as Cain pounded into him, moaning mindlessly. Next to him on the mattress his tablet started beeping urgently, dragging Abel back down to Earth as he opened his eyes to look despite Cain's disgruntled huff. 

"Shit, it's my dad," Abel whined unhappily, moving to sit up and take the call but Cain shoved his weight down onto Abel obstinately, pointedly pressing his dick further into Abel's ass and reaching down to bite his shoulder. "Cain, n- ah, Cain, no, I have to take this, get off," Abel demanded halfheartedly, feeling a bit crabby himself, "It's probably got to do with whatever you said to him."

"Ignore that fucker," Cain drawled, dragging out the last word as he rubbed his cheek against Abel's back in an unusual display of affection, clearly trying to get Abel to let Cain continue fucking him. But despite the slight butterflies this set off in his stomach Abel only frowned, more than a bit turned off at the thought of his father waiting to scream at him on the other side of the line. 

"Cain," he began, but the name turned into a moan as Cain started thrusting in and out of him again, in small, shallow thrusts that made him want to pull Cain in closer and take whatever the fighter was willing to give him-- but the tablet was still beeping and the noise went straight through his brain. "Cain, I said _no_ , it's my dad, it's important," he said, hardly hearing his own words, and he wasn't sure if he was disappointed or not when Cain finally stopped and pulled out of him completely. The fighter sat back with another irritated huff, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at everything as Abel sat up gingerly to answer the phone. 

"Hello?" 

" _ABEL, HOW DARE YOU BRING THAT FUCKING EXCUSE OF A GYPSY DOWN TO MY FUCKING HOUSE, IF HE THINKS HE CAN FUCKING THREATEN ME AND GET AWAY WITH IT HE'S ABOUT TO LEARN JUST WHO HE'S DEALING WI--_ " Abel turned the tablet off hastily, shoving it away from him with wide eyes. 

"Um," he said, and behind him Cain snorted in amusement. "On second thought, maybe I should wait for him to calm down a bit. I'm sure it can't be _that_ urgent," Abel added nervously, fiddling with a stray thread on the sheet beneath him and fighting the urge to ask Cain just what it was he'd said to his dad. Considering his father's reaction, Abel was more than positive that he really didn't want to know. Still wrapped up in his thoughts he jumped a little as he felt Cain's hands sneak around his chest, interlocking against his sternum. 

"Now can we continue?" his fighter purred, managing to sound both irritated and excited at once, and Abel leaned back into him with a sigh. No sooner had he nodded his consent than he found himself back on his knees with Cain's heat behind him, Cain's hands and mouth roaming over his body intently, making his flagging erection flare up once again. A quick bite and proceeding hard suck from Cain on the junction between his neck and his shoulder and Abel could feel the precum beading at his tip and he ground his body against Cain's own erection with a mewl. He was rewarded with Cain grabbing his hips and holding them still as he entered Abel fast this time, no buildup before Cain picked up right where they'd left off, slamming into him hard and making Abel's body jolt with every thrust. A tight coil of heat began building up in his stomach but something was still nagging at the back of his mind despite all of Cain's efforts and somehow Abel _still_ had to open up his damn mouth and say the least sexy thing he possibly could have said. "Cain, about my dad-"

"Fuck him!" Cain spat out aggressively, surprising him, and it was clear Cain was not going to allow anything to interrupt them a second time as he pressed his body down against Abel's. "Fuck all of them! They don't give a shit about you! They don't - _uhn_ \- know you like I do. They don't-- don't…" his voice trailed off into a noise between a heavy growl and a moan as his hips jerked against Abel's ass and the tip of his cock brushed against Abel's prostate. To his mortification, Abel abruptly felt tears prick his eyes, not sure if it was from Cain's near-painful ministrations or the words falling from his lips-- but god help him if he'd never been so damn hard in his life. 

"Cain," Abel gasped as a particularly hard shove pressed his erection down into the sheets painfully, his erection harder than ever with Cain teasing his prostate mercilessly, "Cain, I- I need you, _please_ , I need to see you, I--" With a growl Cain withdrew and flipped Abel over, crushing his back against the mattress and plunging into his hole again, and suddenly Abel was watching Cain pump into him, watching the fighter's expression change from pissed to pained to so, so pleasurable, feeling filled to the brim and violently happy even as more tears squeezed out of his eyes and trailed down his face. 

"The- fuck is with- _you_ ," Cain gasped, reaching one hand up to wipe clumsily at Abel's cheeks, and Abel flinched away even as his hips rose to meet Cain's eagerly. 

"I'm sorry," he whimpered, bringing up a hand to cover his face, "I don't know why-" 

"Forget it," Cain said through clenched teeth. "Let me see your pretty face, принцесса," he demanded on a heavy exhale, and Cain must've been feeling _really_ good to be so affectionate towards him, must've been closer to coming than Abel thought. The navigator dragged his hand away reluctantly and Cain grabbed his wrists, pinning them up above his head. 

"You're perfect," he grunted, narrowed eyes boring into Abel's, full of dark intensity. Abel couldn't help the whimper that fell from his lips as Cain grabbed at his shaft, squeezing tightly and jerking him hard and fast. "I don't give a fuck if you cry" --and if that wasn't the most twisted thing Abel had ever heard Cain say then he must be insane to let this fighter inside him-- "or if you- you- shit, I don't know, do stupid pointless girlfriend shit like that- you're still- _you_!" --and Abel felt Cain pulse inside of him, and he was hot, so hot, his whole body set aflame-- "You're still better than any of tho- _ugh_ -sssee fuckers out there, better than anyone I've ever met in my goddamn life, and fuck, Abel, fuck, I love y-- I'm- I'm going to come, Abel, c'mon, _baby_!" 

Abel let out a keening scream as Cain moved even faster, shoving his sensitized body up and down the bed with every thrust. His hands scrambled for purchase on Cain's back, nails raking lines down the fighter's skin senselessly, and the feel of warm blood beading along his back seemed to only spur Cain on further, and Cain was screaming "Fuck, yes, _yeah_!" and Abel was right there along with him, a tight coil of heat and pleasure making his balls draw up and his dick twitch violently in Cain's large palm, spurts of come leaking out onto Cain's fist as he felt Cain's heat spread through him and Cain's teeth biting into the side of his neck and just Cain, all Cain, surrounding and enveloping him in a fog of lust and thoughtlessness as all the tension left Abel's body in a rush, leaving him weak and shaky as he collapsed back into the sheets, Cain's heavy weight pressing down onto him. 

"Cain," Abel moaned softly as sporadic aftershocks made him clench around his fighter rhythmically, and Cain was groaning into the junction of his neck and shoulder, licking at the wound he'd made in the heat of passion, still thrusting shallowly in and out. 

"Mm, baby, that was good, baby," Cain's breathless voice reached his ears, mumbling senselessly as he continued moving up and down. Abel winced as he began to feel the effect of Cain's ministrations, pushing the fighter up and off his chest, scooting backwards until Cain's softening cock slipped out of him. 

"You bit me again," Abel murmured accusingly, but there was no real force behind it as Cain moved forwards to gather Abel up into his arms, arranging them so that Abel's head was on his chest and his hands could stroke Abel soothingly. 

Abel quieted for a moment, blinking as an echo of Cain's moans came back to him. "Cain, did you say--"

"Didn't say shit, Abel," Cain growled, hands curling against Abel's skin, and they both knew what he'd let slip. Abel felt a tingling sensation sweep through his body, anticipation and pleasure and a hint of fear all entwined with the warm looseness of his afterglow, and this moment could've lasted forever and Abel would have let it. 

The alarm on Abel's tablet rang and they both stiffened, Cain forcibly relaxing his muscles a moment later, Abel not nearly so controlled. " _No,_ " he said, only it came out like a broken moan, and the navigator cringed, waiting for Cain to laugh at him. But Cain didn't answer, only tightened his arm around Abel's waist and pressed his face into Abel's neck with a sigh before releasing him and pulling away.

"Time to go back, Princess," Cain said gruffly, and Abel could have gotten mad at him, could've cried some more, could've thrown a tantrum and made Cain stay in bed with him for just a minute but instead he responded with a pathetically fake smile and too-bright eyes as he glanced over at Cain's sitting form. 

"Yep!" he said, and they both looked away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *cringes because that was the most awkward writing I've done in awhile*  
> Welp, I finally got Cain/Abel teary sex out of my system. Possibly. One more chapter and this'll be over! Waaah~  
> Hope y'all have enjoyed it so far! Thanks especially for everyone who's commented!


End file.
